In my own life, I've noticed that whenever someone gets a cat for the first time, they become horrified by the futility of feline life. Particularly in cities, where few of their kind are allowed outside, domestic cats have a very narrow life: one can gaze out the window or peer out through the air vents of her cat carrier when she's taken to the vet — but for the most part, her world doesn't extend beyond her owner's apartment.

The cat eats, she sleeps and poops, and plays with toys, but to her sentient human master, her life lacks purpose, in an absolute and horrifying way. Unless she runs away and tried to make it on her own, the cat will never go to a party, she will never interview for a job, she will never fall in love.

Examining the circumstances of the pet's life sets the owner into a mild kind of existential despair. They wonder whether, despite all the trappings and distractions of the human world, the strivings and the disappointments, we may be all too similar to our feline friends, just eating and sleeping and shitting and playing with toys. In short: we too will die/we too may be already dead.

As part of a special digital photo spread with i-D which went online today, the Chanel designer also revealed that his little kitten has her own private garden, for "chasing big flies." The Kaiser seems obsessed with making her the most famous cat in the whole world probably because, duh: he doesn't have to confront his own mortality. But sorry Karl, no matter how much you try to protect Choupette, and yourself, from her animal fate, she will still die. You will die, too!

But as for the photoshoots: thank you! The Internet is grateful for the distraction.